


Forgotten (Reconstruction In Progress!)

by TheatreGhost



Category: Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Depression, Erik Has Feelings, Erik has Issues, Erik loves someone else, Eventual Romance, F/M, France - Freeform, Hope, Human Trafficking, Love, Mental Health Issues, Paris - Freeform, Prostitution, Sailing, Seduction, Suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 11:29:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17980502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheatreGhost/pseuds/TheatreGhost
Summary: After the tragedy of the Opera House and the loss of his love, Christine, to Raoul de Chagny, Erik flees the Opera House ashamedly and recedes to a tiny abandoned house hidden in Paris where he plans to end his life.The day he decides to finally end his life, he finds a poster for a show featuring people with theatre acts that are considered “taboo”. He decides to attend, since all the attendants are required to wear masks.And that's when he sees her. Beautiful and talented Aileena Beauté-Sauvage gives him a wink as she exits the stage.Erik, intrigued and possibly hoping to have some kind of love in his life, follows her to the Seine River, where Aileena flirts with him to no end.Erik wants to love her, but he still holds on to the infatuation he has for Christine.Can Erik move on from his once–lover? If Aileena discovers Erik's true identity, will she still flirt, or will she be disgusted?EDIT: I WILL BE RECREATING THIS ENTIRE CHAPTER, AND MAKING THE WRITING MORE MATURE. IT WILL BE MORE LIKE THE BOOK BY GASTON LEROUX THAN THE MUSICAL BY ANDREW LLOYD WEBBER.





	Forgotten (Reconstruction In Progress!)

There were four mirrors placed in a semi-circle in an old, dusty room, filled with the scent of stale alcohol and smoke, and the only light in the room came from a half-melted candle. Wax dripped off of the candle, splatting on the floor with an obnoxious sound not unalike squelching. The floor on which the wax dripped was cement, covered only partially by a ragged blue carpet.

In front of the mirrors was a man, who wore only a tattered, bloodied white shirt with frilly sleeves, black dress pants, and a white half-mask. He inhaled shakily, and exhaled with great effort. Each and every breath could be seen: it was so very, very frigid in that room, since the only heat came from that tiny candle. In the man’s hand was a chipped glass filled with a liquid, which was putrid in scent and a turbid brown in color. 

With every drop of wax that hit the floor, intense irritation stirred inside the man. His hands trembled more and more with every passing second, especially as he reached to his face to remove his mask. 

He gave a weak laugh when he saw his face. How pathetic.

The man’s own grotesque, scarred, deformed face made him shudder out of self-loathing. He was so ugly, so pitiful! How could he have thought that she could ever love him? He had wronged her in so many ways. He wanted to say her name, just to hear it again, but he despised his own voice. His voice, which had captured her heart for a short time, had also repelled her in the end. 

God, the more he stared at himself, the more he wanted to--

\--Another drop of wax hit the floor with an unpleasant ‘squel-plrrr’ and a hiss after. In a flurry of violent movements, the man managed to shatter all four mirrors. He through his shot glass at the candle, which of course was snuffed out. 

The only sound after that was the trickle of the alcohol, which slithered across the floor. Blood began to paint itself on the man’s knuckles. All fell still. Moonlight seeped into the room as a cold wind opened some curtains.

He looked around at his mess, and began to chortle. His laughter built itself into a castle of hysterics. Tears came out of his eyes. He threw himself onto the ground and his laughter came to an abrupt end.

That’s where he fell asleep for the night.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Christine, the actress.  
Raoul, the foolish lover.  
Madame Giry, the betrayer

Erik, the fallen angel.  
All he had ever wanted was love. Why was that so much to ask for?

After what Erik had named, “The Falling of A Kingdom”, which was the destruction of the opera house, he had no choice but to relocate. He managed to save some of his music, clothes, and masks.

After a few weeks, Erik managed to acquire a mask that made his face appear normal. Handsome, even. Using the money he has earned while working at the opera house, he rented a small apartment near the woods and tried to determine what he should now do with his life. Dark thoughts plagued his day, and nightmares tortured his sleep. Fire, a noose, the dungeon he once called home. Every morning, he would awake and ask himself what his purpose was. He was useless, he was a murderer!

Fire. Ropes. Piano keys. That was all he saw when he closed his eyes. Oh, God...what had he done? He truly was a monster, a freak! For a year, he lived in fear of being discovered and killed for the crimes he committed, but soon the fear of being killed faded. He came upon a revelation, and realized three truths:  
Everyone dies eventually.  
He had murdered people, and deserved to die.  
He wanted to die.

He despised himself, and he abhorred society. He no longer wanted to live if he had no reason, if he had nothing to love.

Christine...

For many weeks, Erik went back and forth on the idea of suicide. Would dying be painful? Would he be reborn into a better life? Would he be sent to hell? No one would miss a ghost. From a drug dealer on the street, Erik managed to acquire some pills, pills which were strong enough to kill him if he took five. He planned on taking seven: four for each aspect of his life, and three to represent the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. The four aspects of his life were music, night, the Seine river, and love.

On a dark and dreary Saturday morning, the day Erik planned to take the pills, for some strange reason he felt the urge to take a walk. Out into the city he went, and navigated his way through the slightly busy streets. He wandered around aimlessly for a long while, until a paper that was pinned on a building fluttered in the wind and caught Erik’s eye. On the paper was a picture of a white half mask, and a description that said:

“Tomorrow, at exactly twelve o'clock at night, when the moon is high in the sky, a performance will take place near a building next to the Seine river. Artists of song like no other will perform. All are welcome, except those who seek to berate. It is recommended that those who attend wear a mask, to protect their identity from being discovered, since the show is considered ‘taboo’. Do not miss the most spectacular moments of your life.”

Artists of song? Most spectacular moments of his life? Erik was intrigued, especially because his life would soon come to an end. The word that really caught his attention was ‘taboo’. The word almost made him laugh, something he had not done in a very long time. After a few moments of hesitation, Erik took the paper and hurried off to his home. Once he was inside his apartment, he sat on his bed with the paper and began to ponder. He did want to hear music, just one more time, and he truly did wonder how taboo the performance would be. “Perhaps the pills can wait one more day.” Erik said to himself quietly. He flinched at the sound of his own voice, which violently sliced through the silence. Oh, how he had grown to hate the silence, but also hate his voice.

Erik slept soundly after reading poetry for a long while. When he awoke the next morning, he found that he was rather excited for the performance.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aileena slid her tight yellow performance shorts on, then adjusted her black undershirt after chalking her ballet shoes. From behind a thin black curtain, she could hear the mumbles of an excited and nervous audience. The words ‘taboo’, ‘masks’, and ‘oddities’ were often whispered, and while those words could have alarmed and frightened other people, they only brought a smile to Aileena’s face. She could not deny that she was a...strange woman. Newly twenty years of age, wild, and a nomad of sorts. She never stayed in one place for too long. She had been called a whore, a witch, and plenty of other ghastly names, and she accepted them all with a smile on her face. 

Well, accept for whore. She hated that word, especially because she felt it was true.

All the other female performers whispered about Aileena, calling her a man and money stealer. The women were right: Aileena had a way with men and their money. How else was that little circus supposed to get business? Aileena attracted the men, promised them what they wanted if they became donors, and then she’d steal their money and the circus would flee the area.

Not exactly honest work, but better than nothing, especially because she had no choice but to stay.

Aileena applied a light pink lipstick, along with dark black eyeliner and mascara. She despised wearing makeup(it was a pain to take off), but the managers of the circus insisted that it would bring in more customers, so she wore it. Tonight, though, she did not feel much like performing, since she planned on visiting La Sienne Rivière, The Sienne River, after the performance. Her heart leapt at the thought of the dark, rain cloud filled sky and the cold, deep blue water that awaited her. 

But first, the show. Aileena put her white mask on, since everyone, even the audience, was required to wear a mask to protect their identity. After all, what if someone of importance was seen at such a taboo show? Their reputation would be ruined! 

Aileena was itching to peek behind the curtain to look out at the audience, despite her conscience telling her not to. In her head, she heard Monsieur Dantes saying, “If you can see the audience, the audience can see you!” It was only going to be a quick peek, so Aileena slightly drew back the curtain and looked out at the audience. The crowd was enormous that night. There was not enough room for everyone to sit, so some people had to stand in the back. 

Aileena’s eyes locked with a tall man who wore a mask just like hers, and a black cloak. His eyes were a dark brown, so dark they were almost black. There was something about those eyes that intrigued her. She saw the same eyes on thousands of different people, but she had never seen eyes like these. The man stared back at her with the same intrigued look, wondering who this delicate rose of a girl was. Aileena flashed a flirtatious and coy smile at the man, before disappearing behind the curtain. She let the braids out of her light hazelnut brown hair, letting it flow down to her chest. 

The man, Erik, Le Fantome de l’Opera, had not been out in public since the... ‘incident’ regarding the burning of the opera house, and the brief capturing of Christine Daae. 

Christine. His heart fluttered at the thought of her name, and he let out a soft sigh. What had he done?

He wondered for a moment who that girl behind the curtain was, until the curtains opened and a spotlight shined on Aileena in the center of the stage, wearing a flower crown made of roses. A man with a rose in his hand stood by her side, and they began an elegant, fast-paced, and eye-catching dance. 

Though, no one’s eyes were on the man. Who would look at him when Aileena was the attractive one?

The crowd erupted into applause at the end, and with a low curtsy that revealed much more than it should have, Aileena threw a wink at Erik. 

The rest of the performance went by rather quickly, even though it lasted for three more hours. Aileena was featured in a few more things, like trapeze, dances, and singing acts. 

The crowd left hurriedly at the end, many people wishing to catch another glimpse at Aileena, the sweet nightingale of performing. Aileena, however, hid in the shadows until she was sure everyone was gone, then began to walk swiftly done to La Sienne Riviere. She laughed to herself as she evaded the crowd...well, all except for one person.

The man from earlier followed close behind her, and he did not know why he was following. It was as though his feet possessed him, telling him to follow the young lady of the night. Back to his old stalking habits the man went. First Christine, now this woman. With his mask on, perhaps he could seduce her. Once, just once before he died, he wanted to feel loved, even if it was not real.

Aileena was light on her feet, and as swift and elegant as a black cat, slinking through the night. Down to the river she went, not yet aware of the man following her. She slid her performance top off of her, then her performance shorts, leaving her in only her white bra and underwear. She left her mask on, though, and got into the river. She heard a soft rustle of movement behind her, and for a moment, she was frightened, but then a tiny smile found its way to her face. She was used to people following her.

The man remained frozen as he hoped that he had not alerted Aileena of his presence there, but it seemed as though he had. He could have sworn at himself right then and there, but he now had to attend to his ever delighted-looking audience. So, he moved out from behind his spot and took ‘center stage’, “Good evening.” He took a slight bow to Aileena.

Aileena turned to face the man, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. She swam to the side of the river to get closer to the man, but did not emerge from the water. “Bonsoir, Monsieur Nuit.” Aileena smiled after calling the man ‘Mister Night’. “May I help you with something?” Her wide, innocent blue eyes stared up at the man with intrigue.

“I thought I would come meet the infamous lady of the night. I see she likes to take swims beneath the moon and the stars.” The Phantom walked a bit closer to her, enough for her to see him better but not close enough to touch.

Aileena let her hair fall in front of her face, and moved just slightly closer to the river bank. “Indeed I do, Monsieur. Do you?” Aileena swam towards the middle of the river. She held her hand out, a gesture for him to come in. “I implore you to join me.” Her signature flirtatious smile found its way to her face.

“You are quite mesmerizing, much like a siren’s song, but I will not take your bait mademoiselle. I do enjoy the water but I prefer to stay on top of it rather than in it.”

Aileena wore a surprised expression for a second, but quickly covered it up with a laugh. She buried her surprise deep down: she was not used to be being turned down by men. 

Aileena got out of the water, and put her clothes back on. She removed her mask, revealing more of her delicate features. “May I ask your name, Monsieur? Do not worry, I understand if you do not wish to remove your mask in order to protect your identity, but I do ask that you give me a name to call you by.”

The Phantom took a moment to take in her features, “You are a fine swan.” He could not help but notice her finery with such pleasant moonlight shining on her delicate frame. He offered her a gloved hand, “You may continue to call me Monsieur Nuit or whatever suits your fancy.”

Aileena took the man's hand and laced her fingers through his. Without warning, she pulled his face close to hers in order to study his eyes. “Your eyes match your new name, Nuit. Dark, mysterious. Rather beautiful.” Erik’s heart leapt in his chest as Aileena moved her face close to his. 

She had no idea what kind of a beast she was tempting.

“Come, Monsieur Nuit, follow me.” Her voice was so soft and so alluring, her skin was like silk, and her body was so delicate. Erik, Le Fantome de l’Opera, now named Monsieur Nuit, followed her back to where the performance had been held. 

Nuit could hardly keep track of where they were, because his eyes had hardly left Aileena. Once, just once, he wanted to pretend he had something like love. Did she want to sleep with him? Is that was this was? He was in no place to refuse, and God, he could not lie: he wanted to. He would pretend it was Christine he was in a bed with, and not Aileena.

**Author's Note:**

> Up to suggestions for what you want to see, throw some stuff in the comments! Thanks for reading, lovelies! <3


End file.
